minimalist dreams

“The isolated Model T truck bears the weight and pride of a hundred years of rust, becoming prairie art and sentinel.” 

– quote and photo by Glenn Buttkus at South Sound Minimalist Photos

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cousin billy jo’s family
left kansas in dust bowl;
packed worldly possessions
headed to californ-I-ay
to live under a palm tree
but truck broke down in dry
gulch county of colorado;
abandoned it right there
hiked to nearby town
where billy jo’s daddy
found work in a mine;
rusted dreams sift sand,
no palm tree for miles.

Noah’s scouts

black, strong
pumping, soaring, cawing
scavenger, bully, nester, peacemaker
cooing, flapping, alighting
delicate, white


A diamante is an unrhymed, seven line poem. “Dee-uh-MAHN-tay” is Italian for “diamond”.  See for more information.

sorrow’s train


squabs hatched near old depot
downy nestlings have flown
lonesome dove cries softly
for orphan far from home

destiny now switches course
where railway freight cars roam
wail of distant train horn
calls orphan far from home

mothers, father, grandparents
took one-way ticket loan
my heartsong of mourning
as orphan far from home


Meeting the bar at dVerse poets pub with Laura Bloomsbury’s challenge to write “epiphora” with watery eyes and repetition…

nuclear fallout


it’s good to create

energy in a marriage

a bit of spark adds

excitement to any

couple’s relationship

but negative energy

will backfire on itself;

wound like   [bam]

agitated boomerang

or spring   [zing]

like wristwatch too

tightly wound, no



in time




Lillian challenges us to write a quadrille (44 words) using both pronunciations/meanings of “wound”.  Join us at dVerse poets pub  🙂

life goes on

as the world turns

life goes on

in sleeping and waking

life goes on

as spring blooms to summerIMG_1648

life goes on

in wonder of pregnancy

life goes on

as waiting on nest eggs

life goes on

in corn plants on row

life goes on

as calves grow strong

life goes on

in persistence of anthills

life goes on

as sunshine after rain

life goes on

in each heartbeat and breath

life goes on!

a twiglet


as grassy ditches burst

with sunshine of

dandelion smiles


while sweet lilacs coax

honey bees to hum


and wee apple tree happily blooms…


when spring sings everywhere,

then hope rides the air!



gringas in mexicali

Linda challenges us with paint chip poetry…I used them all for the fun of it!




In breezy conversation
at the Indigo Cafe
our waiter recommends
the special for today:
tostados rancheritos
smothered with
habanero sauce
“I’ll try it,” I responded
not thinking of the cost.

My hot tongue pricks
with pins and needles
my gut it churns to mud
consciousness is quicksand
I fall to floor with thud
my friend now questions waiter
how four-star menu rates
We fear those rancheritos
may lead to pearly gates!




our choice


embrace death

it is everyone’s end

accept the coldness

into your spirit well

before it strikes you

down, go down to it


choose life

to live every day

accept what it gives

with an open spirit

don’t let life slip away

step up, live up to it



“This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live.”  –Deuteronomy 30:19 NIV



Palinode poem where first verse is refuted by second…link to dVerse poetics with Grace hosting today.

primal instinct


loud bawl of mourning

wide-eyed cow calls to dead calf

udder full of milk


harvest coming

The day my father died,

warm body barely cooled,

Holy Spirit nudged pastor

to visit; he offered prayer

as hearse driver waited.

We circled to hold hands

with hospice social worker,

asking God for His peace.

Pastor said, “Death is

like planting a seed…”


Linking to dVerse poets invited to write quadrille (44 words) on “seed” theme.

sorrow’s ebb & flow



death is pond ripple

concentric rings pulsing out

mark place of impact



grief is rogue sea wave

turbulence serges higher

wipe-out on beach

soul without shell



death is empty egg

hope’s promise of life deferred

only shell remains



grief is thick blind slug

vulnerable on mud path

unaware it’s stuck



I write these haiku one week after my father’s funeral.

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